Saul Bellow is the first proper American novelist that I have read. Herzog was an ecstatic, enriching and soul searching novel for me . A very interesting novel which is sort of meditations of a man named 'Moses Herzog' on self and the human condition. Herzog writes 'what it means to be a man. In a city. In a century. In transition. In a mass. Transformed by science. Under organized power. Subject to tremendous controls. In a condition caused by mechanization."
Herzog is a man who lives in contradictions while being both profound and mad at the same instance or say precisely a matured 'unpractical' man. "If I'm out of my mind, it's all right with me, thought Moses Herzog.".."In an age of madness, to expect to be untouched by madness is a form of madness. But the pursuit of sanity can be a form of madness, too"
The novel is the rapturous exploration of the mind of Herzog where he strips and scrutinies the individual ,the society and the human condition . Through out the novel we find this unbundling or outpouring of the mind of Herzog. Herzog does this explorations through sort of a peculiar exercise by writing letters to people which are never sent. "One way or another the no doubt mad idea entered my mind that my own actions had historic importance and this fantasy (?) made it appear that people who harmed me were interfering with an important experiment."
Herzog is a man who lives in contradictions while being both profound and mad at the same instance or say precisely a matured 'unpractical' man. "If I'm out of my mind, it's all right with me, thought Moses Herzog.".."In an age of madness, to expect to be untouched by madness is a form of madness. But the pursuit of sanity can be a form of madness, too"
The novel is the rapturous exploration of the mind of Herzog where he strips and scrutinies the individual ,the society and the human condition . Through out the novel we find this unbundling or outpouring of the mind of Herzog. Herzog does this explorations through sort of a peculiar exercise by writing letters to people which are never sent. "One way or another the no doubt mad idea entered my mind that my own actions had historic importance and this fantasy (?) made it appear that people who harmed me were interfering with an important experiment."
One of the interesting things about the novel is that there is no proper story line. It is just an egocentric ruminations or say philosophical vent out of Moses Herzog. We also get a good glimpse into the lives and peculiarities of American Jews. The 1960's America which was undergoing a societal, cultural and individual transition somewhat resembles the transition phase that urban India presently is undergoing.
The spontaneous letters that Herzog writes is the soul of the novel. It has silly ponderings to sublime thought formation. His letters are addressed to eclectic array of people from Nietzsche to Kierkegaard to President Eisenhower to his ex wife to his mother who had died some thirty years ago. The novel is a sort of a metaphor of the mind which erratically delves into things that reason itself cannot fathom. Herzog engages with people in his letter in his most truthful way. In the fascinating letter to Nietzsche he writes,
""No, really, Herr Nietzsche, I have great admiration for you. Sympathy. You want to make us able to live with the void. Not lie ourselves into good-naturedness, trust, ordinary middling human considerations, but to question as has never been questioned before, relentlessly, with iron determination, into evil, through evil, past evil, accepting no abject comfort. The most absolute, the most piercing questions. Rejecting mankind as it is, that ordinary, practical, thieving, stinking, unilluminated, sodden rabble, not only the laboring rabble, but even worse the "educated" rabble with its books and concerts and lectures, its liberalism and its romantic theatrical "loves" and "passions"--it all deserves to die, it will die. Okay. Still, your extremists must survive. No survival, no Amor Fati. Your immoralists also eat meat. They ride the bus. They are only the most bus-sick travelers. Humankind lives mainly upon perverted ideas. Perverted, your ideas are no better than those the Christianity you condemn. Any philosopher who wants to keep his contact with mankind should pervert his own system in advance to see how it will really look a few decades after adoption. I send you greetings from this mere border of grassy temporal light, and wish you happiness, wherever you are. Yours, under the veil of Maya, M.E.H."
Sigmund Freud in his masterwork 'Interpretation of Dreams' puts forward this ingenious argument that unfulfilled desires of a person are accomplished through his/her dreams. Dreams in a sense are an outlet for say repressed thoughts. In Herzog also we find that writing letters has this purging attribute where his unexpressed thoughts are poured out in his letters. This helps him to think through various thought processes in his life and reach conclusions in a way. If we also realize that while completely thinking through a process of thought we aspire for a convincing conclusion which is reached by going through various pros and cons. But the experience of this whole process matures the mind and brings joy in a sense. At the end, Herzog seems to have reached such a joyful state where he is now relishing his solitude. He grows though these letters that he wrote to become a 'sane' person. "The knowledge that he was done with these letters...At this time he had no messages for anyone.Nothing.Not a single word."
""No, really, Herr Nietzsche, I have great admiration for you. Sympathy. You want to make us able to live with the void. Not lie ourselves into good-naturedness, trust, ordinary middling human considerations, but to question as has never been questioned before, relentlessly, with iron determination, into evil, through evil, past evil, accepting no abject comfort. The most absolute, the most piercing questions. Rejecting mankind as it is, that ordinary, practical, thieving, stinking, unilluminated, sodden rabble, not only the laboring rabble, but even worse the "educated" rabble with its books and concerts and lectures, its liberalism and its romantic theatrical "loves" and "passions"--it all deserves to die, it will die. Okay. Still, your extremists must survive. No survival, no Amor Fati. Your immoralists also eat meat. They ride the bus. They are only the most bus-sick travelers. Humankind lives mainly upon perverted ideas. Perverted, your ideas are no better than those the Christianity you condemn. Any philosopher who wants to keep his contact with mankind should pervert his own system in advance to see how it will really look a few decades after adoption. I send you greetings from this mere border of grassy temporal light, and wish you happiness, wherever you are. Yours, under the veil of Maya, M.E.H."
Sigmund Freud in his masterwork 'Interpretation of Dreams' puts forward this ingenious argument that unfulfilled desires of a person are accomplished through his/her dreams. Dreams in a sense are an outlet for say repressed thoughts. In Herzog also we find that writing letters has this purging attribute where his unexpressed thoughts are poured out in his letters. This helps him to think through various thought processes in his life and reach conclusions in a way. If we also realize that while completely thinking through a process of thought we aspire for a convincing conclusion which is reached by going through various pros and cons. But the experience of this whole process matures the mind and brings joy in a sense. At the end, Herzog seems to have reached such a joyful state where he is now relishing his solitude. He grows though these letters that he wrote to become a 'sane' person. "The knowledge that he was done with these letters...At this time he had no messages for anyone.Nothing.Not a single word."
